The chicken itself turned out quite well. I probably underdid the chicken seasoning of mustard, garlic powder, and salt. Conversely, my uneven sprinkling technique overdid the Old Bay seasoning in places. Not having a large Dutch oven, I made do wth a smaller enamelled pot; this meant I had to cook the chicken in four batches, and the pieces were probably more deep-fried than shallow-fried (smaller pot, higher oil level). I used a thermometer to judge the oil’s temperature, but I admit that sometimes I opted for a near approximation of the temperature listed in the recipe rather than the exact number.

I was happy to find that the recipe was forgiving enough to take these slights in stride and produce tasty fried chicken. The Cook’s Country article talks about, “…crisp, mahogany chicken that, with a gentle tug, sheets off the bone with its deliciously brittle skin still intact.” As someone who usually gets my fried chicken fix in a restaurant (or worse, fast food) these days, I found this home-made chicken was worlds apart from the mass-produced stuff (even given my rudimentary frying skills). I cooked a mix of drumsticks, thighs, and split breasts; the smaller portions of the split breasts came out dry because they were cooked with other chicken pieces that required more time to cook. The drumsticks were great but disappeared too quickly; the thighs were just right in the combination of moist, tender meat and flavor (from a modicum of fat and deliciously seasoned skin). The next time I make this (and there will be a next time), I think I’ll just use thighs.

Unfortunately, the gravy was not as successful; it was tainted by too much detritus in the oil left over from the frying process. I should have poured out 1/4 cup of the oil from the top without the extras that lurked at the bottom of the pot after I had drained most of the oil.

To make matters worse, I went on to burn the flour while making the roux; although the temperature recommendations are exact in the chicken portion of the recipe, this is not the case in the gravy part of the recipe. The consistency was thick and creamy as desired, at least, but otherwise it didn’t work for me.

This is probably due more to the cook’s limitations than those of the recipe.

Four pounds is a lot of chicken. Luckily, it keeps well in the refrigerator and the leftovers are easily as good as the piping hot, freshly fried chicken. It should be mentioned that the article featuring this recipe in Cook’s Country describes the recipe-testing process and how certain decisions regarding ingredients and methods were made.

Maryland Fried Chicken (serves 4 to 6)

Fried Chicken
4 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces
1 tablespoon dry mustard
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
3 cups peanut oil or vegetable shortening
Old Bay seasoning

Cream Gravy
1/4 cup pan drippings (from frying chicken)
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon pepper
salt

1. For the chicken: Pat chicken dry with paper towels. Combine mustard, garlic powder, and salt in small bowl and sprinkle evenly over chicken. Combine flour and baking powder in shallow dish and, working one piece at a time, dredge chicken parts until well-coated, shaking off excess. Refrigerate on plate for 30 minutes (or up to 2 hours).

2. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 200 degrees. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat to 375 degrees. Arrange half of chicken in pot, skin side down, cover, and cook until well browned, about 5 minutes per side. Lower temperature to medium, adjusting burner as necessary to maintain oil temperature between 300 and 325 degrees. Cook uncovered, turning chicken as necessary, until cooked through, about 5 minutes. (Internal temperature should register 160 degrees for white meat and 175 degrees for dark meat.) Transfer chicken to wire rack set over baking sheet, season with Old Bay, and transfer to oven. Bring oil back to 375 degrees and repeat with remaining chicken.

3. For the gravy: Pour off all but 1/4 cup oil in pot. Stir in flour and cook until golden, about 2 minutes. Slowly whisk in broth, cream, and pepper. Simmer until thickened, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and serve with chicken.

The recipe cooked up more or less as described. The main deviation was the fact that I used organic chicken/turkey andouille sausage; this didn’t render any extra fat with which to saute the chicken breasts. I ended up sauteeing the chicken breasts in the skillet without adding any extra oil and it didn’t seem to harm anything. I had to spend more time on the simmering step because my skillet wasn’t big enough to saute all four chicken breasts without overlap. In the end, the chicken was still moist, even with the extra cooking time. Although Cook’s Country recommends Tony Chachere’s Creole seasoning, I wasn’t able to find it in my local market, so I used McCormick’s instead.

The end result was a spicy stew wth a delicious thick gravy. Like most stews, the flavors melded overnight and the rice sopped up the flavors, so the leftovers were more than acceptable the following day.

Skillet Creole Chicken Fricassee (serves 4)
from the December/January 2007 issue of Cook’s Country

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 1/2 pounds), halved crosswise
3 teaspoons Creole seasoning
8 ounces andouille sausage, cut into 1/2 inch rounds
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped
3 celery ribs, sliced thin
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth

1. Pat chicken dry with paper towels and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons Creole seasoning. Cook sausage in large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until browned, about 5 minutes. Transfer sausage to paper towel-lined plate, leaving fat in skillet. Cook chicken in sausage fat until browned, about 2 minutes per side. Transfer to plate with sausage.

2. Add oil, onion, celery, and pepper to now-empty skillet and cook until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in flour and remaining teaspoon Creole seasoning and cook until flour begins to brown, about 1 minute.

3. Slowly stir in broth until smooth. Return chicken and sausage to skillet. Cover and simmer until chicken registers 160 degrees, about 10 minutes. Serve over rice.

Then there are the things that Cook’s Country does a bit differently. It frequently looks at “retro” food in a column called “Lost Recipes.” This issue’s lost recipe is for Red Velvet Cake, which waned in popularity amid the health scare about red dye #2 in the 1970s. Readers can also write in to the department called “I’m Looking for a Recipe” and ask others for help in rediscovering all-but-forgotten recipes. Another reader-oriented column is “When Things Go Wrong in the Kitchen,” where readers contribute their war stories. There is a central section of pull-out recipe cards for “30-Minute Suppers.” There are recipe contests, too; this issue’s Christmas cookie contest was won by a no-bake recipe for Crunchy Spiced Rum Balls (four runners-up also get their recipes printed in the magazine for the contest roundup).

In keeping with this issue’s seasonal dateline, there’s a holiday menu with family recipes from America’s Test Kitchen staff. The centerpiece is Pineapple Mustard Glazed Ham, and it is complemented by Shrimp Cocktail Salad, Smoky Scalloped Potatoes, Apricot-Orange Gelatin Mold, Sweet and Sour Glazed Brussels Sprouts, and Cranberry-Raspberry Fools. Also highlighted on the cover is Dinner Party Beef Tenderloin, the sort of thing one might want to serve when entertaining this season.

Online archives are starting to make access to old and rare books easier. One resource that everyone who enjoys food should know about is Michigan State University’s Feeding America: The Historic American Cookbook Project.

Feeding America is an archive of 75 American cookbooks dating from 1798 to 1922. The librarians at MSU (which has an extensive collection of cookbooks) chose these books based on their importance in American culinary history.

At first, American colonists had to rely on recipes created in their homelands, despite the fact that some ingredients were now impossible to get. Other ingredients abundant in North America were unknown in Europe, so they were not found in European recipes. The oldest book in the collection, American Cookery by Amelia Simmons, was the first to combine European traditions with American ingredients and techniques.

Other cookbooks in the collection highlight regional cuisines, such as southern cooking and Pennsylvania German food. As immigrants came to America in the nineteenth century, their food traditions became part of the country’s cooking; Feeding America represents the immigrants with books on Asian, Swedish, Italian, and Jewish cooking.

Another thread running through the collection is how cookbooks reflect social trends of their times. The evolution of the American cookbook genre, and its interplay with these social trends, is described in an essay on the site.

The archive is searchable, so one can look for recipes including certain ingredients. Alternatively, one can browse through the books, almost as easily as flipping pages in a real copy. Other advantages of this archive are the savings on shelf space, in money, and the fact that kitchen spills won’t damage these books!

Feeding America is a great resource for cooks, historians and the merely inquisitive.

Asian food has gotten a lot of press for being healthy. If the number of Asian restaurants in the US is any guide, Asian food is popular. The standard Chinese and Japanese restaurants have been joined more recently by Vietnamese, Burmese, Korean, Malaysian, Thai and others. But one big thing holds many people back from trying to cook Asian food: those mysterious “exotic” ingredients. Some of these have long since been naturalized; soy sauce and tofu, for example. There are many other ingredients, however, that remain mysterious to the neophyte. Preserved vegetable? Sansho? Galangal? Fish sauce?

Restauranteur and chef Bruce Cost has come to the rescue of anyone wanting to make sense of what’s on offer at the local Asian market with Asian Ingredients. Although it isn’t the sort of portable guide one can slip into a pocket on a shopping trip, it is a very useful text to study while making up next week’s shopping list.

Cost divides the book into Fresh Ingredients; Preserved and Processed Ingredients; Condiments and Sauces; Spices, Sugars, Nuts, and Seeds; Noodles and Wrappers; Flours and Thickeners; and Cooking Fats and Oils. There is also a bibliography and index.

This book is an eye-opener for anyone wanting to familiarize themselves with Asian cuisines. A typical entry includes several names for the ingredient in the languages of different countries, a history of its use in cooking (often reaching back millenia, particularly for ingredients used in Chinese cooking) and tips on what to look for when purchasing the ingredient, including brand recommendations when applicable. Many ingredients are shown in a black-and-white photo. Then, just so you know what to do with your ingredients when you get them home, the book is filled out with recipes.

The array of food dealt with here can seem daunting at first glance, but Cost is a good guide. His practicality is balanced with intriguing nuggets of food history. It’s probably best to start by focusing on a few ingredients and then expanding one’s repertoire.

Any criticisms of this book fall into the realm of nitpicking. However, the mention of Korea in the subtitle is slightly misleading, since Korea has many more of its own characteristic ingredients than are mentioned in the book. Those committed to Southeast Asian cooking (from places like Singapore or Malaysia, for example) will also wish for more space devoted to those cuisines. Still, this is all the introduction to Asian ingredients that most people need. If the reader grows beyond its limitations, than the book has done the job of getting that reader comfortable enough with Asian cooking that he or she is ready to seek out new frontiers.

Pros: Clear organization, wide scope, practical tips.

Cons: Some cuisines covered in more depth than others.

Rating: 9 out of 10.

Ingredients list: 4 large chicken thighs or breasts, deboned; 1/2 teaspoon shrimp paste; 1 tablespoon palm sugar, finely chopped; 1 tablespoon water; 2 tablespoons ketjap manis, or dark soy sauce; 2 tablespoons oil; 1 onion, halved and sliced thickly; 2 red chilies, sliced diagonally; 3 cloves garlic, sliced; 1 stalk lemongrass, sliced thinly on the diagonal; 3 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lime juice; 1/3 teaspoon salt, or to taste.

Directions: “1. Cut chicken into large bite-sized chunks. Mash shrimp paste with palm sugar, water, and ketjap manis until smooth, and mix with the chicken. Let marinate 15 minutes at room temperature.

“2. Heat oil in a wok over high heat. Add onion, chilies, garlic, and lemongrass and stir-fry vigorously until softened and fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes. Add chicken and fry until it is just cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes more, then add lime juice and salt and mix well. Serve hot with rice.”

This turned out to be a tasty stir-fry, quick and easy to assemble. The instructions didn’t specify whether the marinade should be added to the pan along with the meat. I did add it and it created a delicious sauce; it also slowed the cooking time down somewhat. The lemongrass added a floral taste to the earthier flavors of the chicken thighs and ketjap manis-based sauce, but I should have peeled a few more of the tough outer layers off before cooking; the lemongrass was crunchy and tough. I should also have used more lime juice; the sour taste alluded to in the recipe’s title was subtle at best. The heat was limited to occasions when I bit down on the chiles. The stir-fry turned out to be a bit milder-tasting than I expected, but still delicious.

Rating: 8 out of 10.

As befits its geographic location, Singapore is a culinary crossroads between China and Southeast Asia. Soy sauce and fish sauce, stir-fries and curries sit cheek by jowl in this country’s cooking. The ultimate fusion is Nonya cooking, which was originated by the Chinese wives of Malaysian merchants. Whatever the origin of a given dish, Singaporeans love good food; “Shiok!” is loosely translated as meaning, “Wow, delicious!” and may give a hint as to the esteem good food enjoys in this culture.

Terry and Christopher Tan are writers and food consultants. In the introduction, they say, “This collection of recipes is a personal and idiosyncratic one. It is not meant to be a definitive guide to Singaporean gastronomy…nor is it an anonymous collation of ersatz ethnic expressions packaged for easy digestion. These dishes are drawn from our lives, from the home repertoires we have cooked our way through many times over the years.” The presentation is polished, but there is an informal quality as well that is typified by comments such as this one in the headnote to the recipe for “Kari Ayam,” a curry: “Chris thinks toasted plain bagels are good with it too.”

A large part of this book’s polish comes from Edmond Ho’s photography. Almost all recipes are illustrated with big colorful photos that use closeups and artful blurring to show the dishes, yet create an artistic impression.

After a prefatory note by Australian chef David Thompson, there is an introduction that covers the different influences on Singaporean cuisine: China, Malaysia and India. Attention is also given to the authors’ Peranakan background; similar to Nonya cooking, Peranakan cooking is a fusion of Chinese and Indonesian food traditions. Once the preliminaries are out of the way, the book is organized into Sambals, Achars, Chutneys and Sauces; Entertaining Snacks; Hawker Favorites; Homestyle Dishes; Curries; Peranakan Classics; and Desserts. There is an illustrated glossary of ingredients and an index as well.

Since Singapore’s food comes from a crossroads of different Asian traditions, Shiok! reflects this diversity. There are classic Chinese-style dishes such as “Stir-Fried Beef with Kai Lan” or “Soy-braised Chicken.” Then there are curries like “Gulai Prawns and Pineapple” and “Kuah Lada” (a fish curry). The instructions are clear, though cooks without ready access to an Asian market may find themselves searching for ingredients such as candlenuts. Those interested in cooking Asian food will find this book a good introduction to Singaporean fare, but also a whirlwind tour of different types of Asian dishes and cooking methods.

Unfortunately, the book’s binding is not too durable; when I laid the book flat to cook from a recipe, the glue gave out after remaining in the same position for some time. In an odd design decision, the titles for the recipes are printed lighter than the main text, so one has to look carefully to make sure of what one is cooking. The cross-references are not infallible, either; the recipe for “Mee Goreng” (a noodle dish) refers to the recipe for “Sambal Goreng” on page 25, but that recipe is really on page 28.

These nitpicks aside, Shiok! provides a good introduction to enjoying and cooking Singaporean food.

Pros: Good introduction to Singaporean food, as well as to Asian food in general.

Cons: Flimsy binding; a few inaccurate page numbers in cross-references.

Rating: 8 out of 10.

Ingredients list: 1 1/2 pounds large or extra-large shrimp, 6 tablespoons canola oil, 4 large garlic cloves (minced), half an onion (thinly sliced), 2 tablespoons sugar, two tablespoons fish sauce, half teaspoon salt, half teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, cilantro sprigs for garnish.

Directions: “1. Devein the shrimp while leaving the shells on. To do this, lay them on a table and hold them in place with one hand while you slice through the shell down the back of the shrimp with a sharp knife from the top to the tail, about 1/4 inch deep. Remove any black vein. Put the shrimp in a bowl of lightly salted water until you are ready to use them.

“2. Heat the oil in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the garlic and stir-fry for a minute. Add the onion and reduce the heat to low. Let the onion cook until it is very soft and transparent, about 15 minutes. Add the sugar and stir until it dissolves. Add the fish sauce, salt, and pepper and stir to combine, simmer for a minute, and remove from the heat. The mixture should look smooth and syrupy and the oil will have separated from the sauce.

“3. Carefully pour the separated oil into a medium frying pan and heat over medium-high heat. Add the shrimp and stir-fry until they are cooked through and the shells are pink, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the sauce from the first pan, stir to combine it with the shrimp, and heat through. Transfer to a serving platter and garnish with the cilantro springs.”

Henricksson suggests serving this dish with jasmine rice and a salad, but I had it straight. My main worry was during the stage where the oil needs to be separated from the sauce. I wound up scooping oil with a spoon from one pan into the next, which was to be used for cooking the shrimp. Although this was surely a less-than-elegant solution, it didn’t seem to affect the final result.

The result was finger-licking-good shrimp in shells. Yes, shrimp in shells require a bit more effort to eat, but there’s something about sucking the traces of a savory sauce off the shrimp shells that makes it worthwhile, and that just doesn’t work the same way with shelled shrimp. The technique used in this recipe is a Vietnamese technique often used with soft-shelled crabs, and it leads to a sauce that is rich and caramelized. Fish sauce reaches a pinnacle in a recipe like this; it is transformed from a smelly condiment into the basis for a sweet sauce that gains depth from the fond left on the pan by the garlic and onions. This is a great dish for summer at the beach.

Rating: 9 out of 10.

When I started cooking Asian food, all I wanted to do was to be able to make Japanese food at home. This book was the key that got me cooking other cuisines that I had never considered before: Korean, Thai, Vietnamese and others. As a result, it’s earned a lasting place in my heart (and my kitchen).

Henricksson once ran a noodle shop in New York City. This cookbook is her way of sharing her recipes, and also of encouraging others to cook Asian food at home. It’s an excellent introduction for the beginner who wants to investigate Asian cuisines but isn’t sure where to start. Henricksson’s friendly, accessible and balanced approach is just what a neophyte needs.

After introductory sections on “Ingredients” and “Equipment,” the recipes are divided into “Appetizers and Salads,” “Soups,” “Noodles,” “Asian Barbecue,” “Main Courses,” and “Vegetables and Side Dishes.” A “Source Guide” and index bring up the rear. Henricksson strikes a good balance between recipes for classic Asian dishes (like pad Thai, yakisoba, mapo tofu, and adobo), and recipes using Asian flavors in less “authentic” settings (such as “Indian Spice-Rubbed Pork Chops” or “Grilled Squid Salad”). Purists will prefer cookbooks focusing on “authentic” recipes, but these non-traditional recipes have the advantage of getting cooks familiar with esoteric-seeming ingredients by cooking with them. Those who wish to delve deeper into traditional Asian cooking can easily use this book as a springboard to get them started.

Everyday Asian a good pick for cooks who may be acquainted with one or two Asian cuisines but who wish to expand their horizons. There are recipes from China, India, Indonesia, Japan, Korea, Myanmar, the Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, and Vietnam. Unlike some pan-Asian restaurants which homogenize the differences between the cooking of different countries, Henricksson never loses sight of the individual character of each cuisine she considers. This doubtlessly comes from her experience of traveling in Asia and enjoying Asian food in the places it originates. Her recipes are peppered with travel anecdotes and reminiscences of her noodle shop days; these tales add to the friendly feeling the book conveys.

Another strength of Everyday Asian is that the recipes are clearly written and turn out as they are supposed to. If a recipe requires more than one thing to happen simultaneously, the instructions make it clear how the processes are to be organized so that everything is done at the right time. As a cook who is less than intuitive in this department myself, I find that this is one of the best things about the book.

Everyday Asianajor drawback is that it has no illustrations or photos. This unassuming small hardcover won’t scare anyone away from bringing it into the kitchen because it’s too pretty, but some illustrations or photos (particularly in the sections on ingredients and equipment) would doubtlessly help many beginners get oriented. One alternative is to buy a well-illustrated guide like Bruce Cost’s Asian Ingredients as a companion to Everyday Asian.

In sum, Everyday Asian is a terrific introduction to Asian food for cooks. If you love eating Asian food in restaurants and want to get started recreating it in your kitchen, I can’t think of a better guide.

Pros: Terrific introduction to Asian cooking; recipes are clearly written; scope covers many different cuisines well.

Cons: Lack of illustrations or photos may put off some cooks.

Rating: 9 out of 10.

Ingredients list: 2 tablespoons vegetable or peanut oil or lard; 4 to 6 cloves garlic, smashed and minced; 1/2 pound boneless lean pork, thinly sliced across the grain; 1 teaspoon sugar; 1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste; 1 tablespoon Thai fish sauce, or to taste; 2 cups green beans or yard-long beans cut into 1 1/2 inch lengths; 1/4 cup water; 2 tablespoons coriander leaves (optional).

Directions: “In a large wok or wide heavy pan, heat the oil or lard over medium-high heat. When it is hot, add the garlic and cook until golden, about 20 seconds. Add the pork, sugar, and salt, and stir-fry, using your spatula to separate the slices of pork, and expose all the surfaces to the hot wok, until all the meat has changed color. Splash in the fish sauce, add the beans, and cook for 2 minutes, then add the water. Bring to a boil and cook for about 3 more minutes (time will vary depending on the tenderness of the beans); the beans should be cooked but still have some crunch and life and be very green. Taste for seasonings and adjust if necessary. Sprinkle on the coriander leaves, if you wish, and serve on a flat plate or in a shallow bowl.”

This Cambodian recipe went mostly according to plan, though I used pork chunks rather than slices, and splashed in more fish sauce than recommended. The result was a typical Southeast Asian pork and green bean stir-fry with a good garlicky kick. Fish sauce suits pork extremely well, enhancing the flavors and giving the dish a clean taste. The headnote for the recipe includes comments on yard-long beans. They were not quite as plump and juicy as regular green beans would be, but the taste was very similar. The authors recommend this relatively mild dish as a complement for other, hotter dishes in a rice meal.

This recipe cooked up as described. The recipe is written in a clear, accessible, even friendly manner, which sums up the tone of this book. About the only cons I can think of to actually cooking with Hot Sour Salty Sweetom its format as a sumptiously-produced coffee-table book. The beautiful pages make this cook dread the inevitable day when water or sauce lands on the book. It’s a large book, too, especially when open, so someone with a small kitchen may have trouble finding a place to put the book while working through a recipe. Still, the results are worth the effort.

Rating: 8 out of 10.